December 11th, 2002


When you stare into the Abyss long enough...

Thank you all for the pretty words and the time-honored stories. Thank you again for reminding me of all the reasons why I never bother going through with suicide or never plan anything. Why I've never had to ask my friends to hold onto my knives and why I've never bothered writing out my will.

But what you all don't understand is, it's not how I feel now that matters, it's how I'll feel later. Tomorrow and the next day there will no doubt be more people wanting to give me hugs and sage advice, and some people who will avoid me because they don't want to deal with their own issues.

And I'll be embarassed. Because I've shared something this personal and you never would have noticed had I not written it out for you. Because I just don't know how to deal with people showing that they care about me. Because I keep having these thoughts and I'm too strong to follow through with them but too weak to fix or even figure out what's wrong with me.

And because though I know you do care, it hurts even more because I don't *feel* it. When you hug me, all I feel is warm flesh. When you tell me you care, all I feel is the breeze. And when you let me cry on your shoulder, all I feel is the weight I'm pressing down on you with and the dampness falling from my eyes.

These are the feelings that drive me to suicidal thoughts because these are the feelings that are too painful to bear. I never would have guessed that the thing that is killing me from the inside out is a lack of anything coming from outside in. No matter how hot the fire within me burns, your touch chills like ice.
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